Paradise Bar
星期三 六月 10, 2009 10:12 am
We are a silent set
in the corner,
motionless
in their view.
The light is dim,
the air is cold,
yet we enjoy ourselves
in the moment of peace.
They come to occupy us,
with food and drinks,
puffing on cigarettes
and gulping down beers,
butts sunk in and elbows pressing on us.
They eat, talk and laugh
until their world becomes lofty.
Yet the blood of their hate,
the veins of their anger,
the nerves of their fear,
the cells of their sadness,
all become our sheer torture.
They scream to us, and bang on us.
We are never drunk,
always aware of their emptiness
and are taken up.
It's enough,
enough,
we collapse.